


Life is what you make of it

by Aphroditedany



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Heavy Angst, Infidelity, Not Canon Compliant, Not Season/Series 08 Compliant, Unrequited Love, Visions of the Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27327673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aphroditedany/pseuds/Aphroditedany
Summary: Daenerys has a prophetic dream during her time on the ship about what awaits her in Westeros. After the battle for the Dawn, she talks to Bran and things take a completely different way.
Relationships: Daenerys Targaryen/Willas Tyrell, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 8
Kudos: 68





	Life is what you make of it

She comes back from the horrible vision, tears streaming on her cheeks. She touches the skin upon her heart, on the spot where he had stabbed her.

_You are my Queen. Now and always._

It seems she has only herself to blame. Falling for a pair of pretty eyes and a seemingly honest heart.

Viserys' words echo in her head. _We can trust no one, sweet sister. We are Targaryens, and the world will try to crush us at the first opportunity._

Lady Olenna's words resonate deep inside her. _You are a dragon. Be a dragon._

_I wasn't a dragon. Only when it was too late. When the world and my choices forced me to become my father._

Suddenly, the door knocks. It's him. She knows it's him.

The rational part of her wants to understand him. She had burnt an entire city of innocents without being provoked, with no mercy. He believed she was a threat to his family.

_But you were his family as well. And he never cared for you. Never showed you any affection after the revelation of his parentage, never once asked about how you felt, about your losses._

The fire burns strong in her veins. She lets her pain and rage consume her for some moments, before she calms herself.

Jon knocks again. 

She doesn't open the door.

After a while, she finally hears his footsteps. He is leaving.

* * *

Before they reach the gates of Winterfell, she looks at Jon, riding beside her. She hasn't talked to him since that night, since she secretly sent a raven to Kinvara with her special plans for Varys and Tyrion.

"I don't want the North. Tell your sisters you didn't bend the knee eventually."

To say he is astonished is a massive understatement. "Daenerys, what are you talking about? Do you not want to fight with us anymore?"

She grits her teeth in annoyance. "I didn't say I won't fight, I said I don't want the North. You are of no use to me. You can keep your independence. But know this, you will have no help from me in the years to come. I only care about my people. Your people is your problem, King in the North."

Jon tries to dissuade her, to find out why she has changed her mind. She doesn't bother to answer. All she can think of is his eyes when she tried to approach him, full of disgust and discomfort. The dagger in her heart.

* * *

Daenerys makes sure everything will be different this time. She vehemently refuses to let her Dothraki and Unsullied fight in the front row, to become a shield for the petty Northerners. She gives her soldiers Dragonglass, traps are made for the Dead, and she waits Kinvara to arrive.

She doesn't know how, but the mysterious priestess arrives only two days after her, ready to help her.

"So... Valyrian steel is what you ask. And poison for your enemies."

"Yes, Your Holiness. If any other problems arise, we'll think together of how we will get rid of them."

Kinvara bows deeply. "Anything for our Lord's chosen."

* * *

Varys and Tyrion die in their sleep a night before the battle, _heart attacks_ Maester Wolkan announces.

Sansa Stark is certain Cersei sent assassins to poison them, she says they should be careful.

Only Bran looks at Daenerys with a smile full of sadness.

* * *

The Battle for the Dawn comes and goes. Jon kills the Night King, with much of her help and Kinvara's spells. The Lords are looking at her with awe and reverence, not hatred and mistrust. Even Arya seems to want to approach her.

Frankly, she doesn't care anymore. Jorah survived, unlike in her dreams, and her armies are almost intact.

After the feast, Kinvara approaches her.

"The Raven says he wants to talk to you at the Godswood."

* * *

Bran is already there, waiting.

"Good evening, Daenerys."

"Can't say it is one, Lord Stark. Or is it Raven. Or the Great Other, perhaps?"

The boy sighs. "I don't expect you to believe me, or not hate me. But understand this. I can't prevent people's decisions and actions, my only duty is to preserve history."

"I don't care about your nature, as long as you won't harm me. All I need to know from you is the future. Or, the possible outcomes in my life, perhaps."

Bran stays silent for a while. "Jon already knows his parentage. I did it this time, and Samwell was killed in the battle, so you have nothing to fear. But he loves you. Deeply and truly. The truth will come out from Sansa, as it happened in your vision. In order to protect you, he will marry you and become King by your side. You will have many children. The Targaryen dynasty won't see its end any time soon and the Seven Kingdoms will thrive under you reign."

"Six, you mean. I won't take the North."

"Seven. Jon has a claim to the North as well, since Lyanna is his mother."

"And...What? What will happen afterwards? I sense there is a _but_ here."

Bran's eyes fill with sadness once more. "You will discover the but yourself. When it will be too late."

* * *

King's Landing's resistance is nothing, even with the Golden Company and Euron's fleet. No innocents die this time, the city is not burnt. Only the Lannister twins die in Drogon's flames, and Daenerys relishes in someone's screams for the first time in her life. She can't forget, nor forgive Missandei's death in that vision, and it doesn't matter her best friend- and recently made Hand of the Queen- is alive by her side.

Jon comes hesitantly to her after she conquers the city. "Daenerys, there is something we must talk about."

"Your parentage, you mean. Rhaegar and Lyanna. I already know. I just wish they were alive, so I could tell them how disgusted I am with them both."

Jon is taken aback with her harsh words. "I love you. Surely you must have long realised what I feel for you. I was ashamed of my feelings when Bran told me the truth, but it's gone now. You helped us save our home, you killed Cersei." He takes her small hands in his. "Will you take me for your husband?"

"Why should I?"

"Look me in the eyes, Dany. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me."

She flinches away from him like if she has been bitten by a snake. "Don't call me Dany. _Never._ And don't presume you know how I feel for you. The only reason I would marry you would be to secure my reign. I'm certain you lovely sister has made her announcements about your parentage to the Lords."

"Sansa swore an oath! She would never..."

"Oh, wouldn't she? Are you certain? Are you certain this is the Sansa you grew up with? This Sansa is nothing but the shadow of the girl you remember. She was well taught by Cersei, by Baelish, by the Boltons. Love, honour, family, all these mean nothing to her anymore. All she wants is the North. For herself."

Jon gets angry. "You don't know her."

"Trust me, I do. Because this is how I think and act. This is how anyone would think and act, after suffering so much. Go back to the North, Jon. This is where you belong."

* * *

Surprisingly, he doesn't go back. Unsurprisingly, Sansa can't keep her mouth shut and breaks her oath.

They marry in King's Landing three months after the Sack. There is no cloak for her, since they belong in the same house, and she forbids him to wear the Stark sigil. They both have crowns made of platinum gold, onyx and rubbies, made by Lord Gendry Baratheon himself.

She has ordered her Dothraki and Yi Ti maids to make her a black veil for the wedding. The Ladies are gushing with the intricate veil, are saying they will try it for their daughters' weddings, but in white colour.

Only she knows it was made so she could hide her tears from the world.

* * *

She wakes up in their bed, her hands trembling as she ties the laces of her gown. Jon looks at her with obvious worry. 

"Daenerys, stay a little bit. Surely the Great Counsil won't wait for us today."

After so many months, she finally snaps, the dragon inside her snarling and blowing fire. "In case you refuse to understand it, this marriage is only about convenience. Not love. I don't love you and you certainly don't love me, otherwise you would have never revealed your true parentage and put me in such a danger."

He stands up and grabs her by her wrist. She tries to ignore his eyes, full of hurt and anger, and his naked body.

"Why are you treating me like this? Why can't you give us a chance to be happy together? You know I love you, you know I would do anything for you, die for you."

"No. No, you wouldn't." Daenerys takes some steps back and looks him straight in the eye. "I hope, for the sake of the Realm, I will be able to give us children, as many as we wish. You are permitted to take a mistress if you want, though. As long as you are discreet and she doesn't get pregnant, you won't hear me complain. If she does, she will be forced to miscarry. I won't allow any bastards of yours to threated my children, I won't allow any Blackfyre rebellions ever again."

Her husband looks at her as if he doesn't recognise her. His voice comes out as a weak whisper when he talks again. "What did happen to you? What did happen to the Daenerys that stood by my side as I was recovering? The Daenerys that held my hand with tenderness and love in her eyes? What did I ever do to you?"

"Nothing", she whispers. "But you would have. You would have chosen your family over me, had it ever come to that. And I will not stand being your second choice."

* * *

Daenerys gets pregnant only two moons after their wedding.

She doesn't dare to hope, in spite of Bran's reassurance that they will have many children. She doesn't dare to touch her growing belly, she doesn't sing, she shows no signs of affection. But Jon does. His happiness is evident for all the world to see.

Rhaella and Aenys are born during a night full of thunders, their loud cries echoing in the Red Keep. Aenys is his mother's spitting image, but Rhaella has her father's grey eyes. Rhaella is her firstborn, and her Heir.

Jon is beyond himself with happiness and elation, showering his babes and his wife with gifts. Among his gifts for Daenerys is a necklace from Essos, with amethysts and emeralds.

She wears the necklace only to indulge him, throwing it in her jewelry box after a month.

* * *

When they make love again, some years after the twins' birth, something has changed inside her. The pain from her vision is gone and she lets herself love her husband completely.

Even their Great Counsil sees the change, exchanging secret smiles when they see their monarchs walk side by side with their hands entwined, or when Jon crowns Daenerys as his Queen of Love and Beauty, in the first Tournament held after the Great Wars.

More children come, along with more beautiful gifts from her husband. Prince Daeron and Princesses Daenerys and Rhaenyra, named by Jon, who immediately declares little Dany as his favourite. The years pass, Westeros and Essos are prospering under their reign and their children grow, healthy and happy.

* * *

King Jon Targaryen, 70 years old, is on his deathbed. His children are around him, others sniffing and others openly crying. His wife is also by his side.

"My children, can you leave me alone with your mother for a moment?"

Reluctantly, their Princes and Princesses leave the room until they are all alone.

Jon turns to face Daenerys. His wife is smiling at him. 

"I have something to ask you, and I want you to answer truthfully. Did you ever love me, Daenerys? Did I make you happy?"

Her hands are trembling when she caresses his shoulders. "In the beginning, no. In fact, I hated you."

"Why? What had I done to you? Were you afraid I would hurt you? That I would allow others to hurt you?" He is crying freely, his weak body shaking with sobs.

Daenerys remembers her vision. How she had fought tooth and nail to hate her nephew and husband. How she allowed it to poison their first years of marriage. How, eventually, everything in her future changed because she simply made better choices and gave Jon the time he needed. How she still refused to visit the North or talk to his sisters. This was one aspect of their relationship that had never improved. Daenerys made no efforts to know Sansa and Arya, and was beyond herself when Sansa revealed Jon's parentage. The only reason she didn't burn her alive was because she knew the North would start a rebellion again.

Bran's words echo in her head. _You will discover the but yourself. When it will be too late._

She finally understands.

The Dragon Queen looks at her husband's tearful face. She wipes his tears and places a soft kiss on his lips. He reciprocates.

"I love you. In this life and any others, I love you. When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. Only then I will stop loving you."

She takes him into her embrace, warming his frail body. His eyes close, but there is a smile on his lips.

After a while, she hears Rhaegal roaring with pain.


End file.
